


mirror, mirror

by screechfox



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post-Season/Series 01, Tags May Change, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 17:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17923148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: “I promise this is only kind of as weird as it looks,” Klaus says weakly.After their last minute time-travel gambit, the Hargreeves siblings end up in the past, on the day that Five would have disappeared. Much to Five's annoyance, everyone else is still an adult, but that comes at a cost: all their younger selves are still around, and they're allreallycurious about the future.To make matters worse, Sir Reginald Hargreeves is also still alive, and the tight-lipped bastard is in no hurry to give up his secrets any time soon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh god i am notoriously terrible at updating longfics why do i do this. i'm just going to try and harness my hyperfixation and see where it gets me and/or this story. it may also end up diverging into oneshots in this universe because that's way less pressure.
> 
> draft title: 'mirror mirror alt ver', bc the original version (rip) was going to be from kid!klaus' perspective

**16 YEARS, 4 MONTHS, AND 22 DAYS EARLIER…**

They land in the courtyard with an unceremonious thudding sound. The air fills with a musical chorus of groans and pained noises, which slowly fall into the silence of a group of people who are processing the cumulative insanity of their lives - and, who all have splitting headaches.

Well, presumably all of them have headaches; Klaus certainly does, and he's pretty sure his life isn’t _that_ unfair. One of those side-effects Five mentioned last time, he remembers vaguely, as he forces himself to get upright.

“So when are we, then?” He stretches, wincing as his joints crack worryingly. The itch he remembers from last time is crawling all over his skin, and he does his best to ignore it as he looks around. Yep, they’re in the past all right - Ben’s statue is conspicuously missing. “Five?”

His eyes land on Five: completely unconscious. Well, shit.

“We’re all still adults,” Luther says slowly. By the look of him, he’s _definitely_ battling the cotton-wool headache. “I thought…”

“Five can probably not-explain it once he wakes up,” Klaus says, waving a hand and glancing around at the rest of his siblings. They all seem to be in a similar state of post-time travel grogginess; Klaus may actually be the _most_ clear-headed out of everyone right now. Score one for having time travel experience.

“He’s going to be pissed about it,” Diego says, half a groan, one arm across his face.

Ben stands against the oak tree, a soft fond smile on his face. Well, strike Klaus corrected: the ghostly asshole is the most clear-headed of all of them, because apparently being deceased means you get to escape pesky things like the aftereffects of time travel.

Klaus flips him off with a smile, opening his mouth to say something sarcastic, before being interrupted by Allison tapping the ground, eyes wide.

She raises one hand, pointing at something behind them.

As Klaus gets to his feet and turns, his own eyes widen when he sees a young Vanya, maybe twelve or thirteen. She stares back at them with clear bewilderment.

“Who are you, and... What are you doing with Five?” Her voice shakes a little, but she still sounds just like the Vanya he remembers from blurry childhood memories: soft as dawn clouds, always kind but always just out of reach. He feels a burst of brotherly emotion well up in his heart, and he can’t place whether it’s love or regret.

He raises his hands in a placating gesture and turns back to his siblings for help. Everyone looks equal measures mystified and awed, except for Allison, who just looks like her heart is breaking.

Everyone slowly begins the process of getting upright, but even with this new development, no one else seems particularly eager to take their chances with standing up. That’s what comes of feeling like your head’s lost a boxing match with a kangaroo and like someone is gently caressing your entire body with sandpaper, Klaus supposes.

The awkwardness of the silence is palpable. If the garden wasn’t as desolate as the man who owns it, there’d be the sound of crickets chirping.

“Vanya,” a boy's voice calls from inside, sharp and familiar.

There's a rushing sound and a flicker of blue light and then Five appears, looking identical to the one on the ground, but somehow so much younger. There's an openness to his face that his older counterpart just doesn't have, and that Klaus hadn’t noticed until the difference was placed in front of him.

“Come on, Vanya, we're supposed to be at… dinner.” Five trails off as his eyes land on the muddled group of adults sitting around in the courtyard - and probably more importantly, on his unconscious self in the middle of them.

“I promise this is only kind of as weird as it looks,” Klaus says weakly.

For a moment, he worries that Vanya and Five are going to try and fight them. Five was always over-confident, even as a kid, and Klaus is pretty sure Vanya’s picked up _some_ fighting skills from watching their training, even if she never went out on missions. Luckily, whatever they think of the four people who are currently both conscious and visible stops them from doing more than frown warily.

Then, footsteps.

“Hey, guys?” Klaus freezes, as though ice has been poured down his spine, as Ben steps through the doors into the courtyard.

It only takes a quick glance to confirm that their Ben is still standing against the oak tree, looking just as blindsided by this development as Klaus feels. Klaus gestures helplessly between the two Bens as though that'll magically glean some answers.

“Klaus,” Diego says, brows raised in unspoken questioning, as Allison holds up a piece of paper that simply says _Ben._

“Uh, yeah, he's still here. Somehow.”

Don't get Klaus wrong, he's delighted that he hasn't lost his brother again, especially given what bullshit Ben's company has got him through, but… He has more than a few questions and concerns about this situation. God, his powers are _weird._

As though on cue, a younger Klaus appears through the door. Small, adorable (if he does say so himself), and definitely high as a kite - at least, by the standards of thirteen year old Klaus.

“Huh,” baby-Klaus says slowly, obviously having to process what he’s seeing. “Everyone else can see this, right? It's not just me?”

Allison shoots Klaus a look that's somewhere along the lines of ‘you haven't changed’. Given that he asked basically the same question when Five appeared the first time, she's not wrong, but he still feels a little bit offended. At least _he's_ sober.

“Is anyone else going to join the peanut gallery, or is this it?” Diego slowly drags himself to his feet. The intimidating effect of his considering gaze is kind of ruined by the way he wavers slightly as he stands. “I can’t wait to see what kind of plan Five has for _this_ situation.”

“Who are you?” Young-Five steps forward, glaring, and _there’s_ the resemblance to their own little psycho.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Klaus holds out his left arm, wrist up, baring the hateful lines of heart-black ink to the world. The kids’ eyes all widen at once like they’re in a cartoon, and Klaus grins, toothy.

His grin fades as someone else approaches; the footsteps are slow and deliberate in a way that Klaus can never forget.

“All of you are meant to be at dinner,” a familiar voice snaps. “What on _Earth_ is going on?”

There, behind the horde of confused children, stands Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

There’s a beat of silence - the silence of five adult siblings briefly contemplating murder - before Klaus takes it upon himself to break it with a cheery wave he doesn't feel at all.

“Hi, Dad.”

Behind him, Ben laughs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i have so many umbrella academy wips it's unreal, but this one is my priority rn

Klaus is very happy to learn that Sir Reginald Hargreeves can apparently be shocked. He can be surprised, he can be confused, and he can stare blankly at things with his jaw dropped.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t last. He closes his mouth with an audible click of teeth-on-teeth.

“Very well,” he snaps, in that tone of voice that means ‘I’m disappointed but I don’t care about you enough to say it right now’. Klaus feels a shiver down his spine at the awful familiarity of it. He can only imagine how his siblings feel, young and old alike.

He claps his hands once, and all the kids stand up straight.

“Go and eat your dinner. Unless told otherwise, you and your siblings may have the rest of the evening to do as you wish.” Well, _there’s_ a sign that the old man is rattled: that _nearly_ resembles compassionate parenting.

The kids hesitate, glancing over at Klaus and the others, before Five nods and begins dragging Vanya and Ben behind him. Little-Klaus lags behind, squinting as though trying to focus on something far away, before Dad hits him over the head and he rushes off.

“Now, explain yourselves.”

Klaus glances around his siblings. If they’re trusting _him_ to be the leader in this situation, they’ve probably gained _too much_ confidence in him in the past few hours.

“We need some of Vanya’s medication,” Luther says, in a firm tone that would have allowed no argument once upon a time. “If she wakes up here, she’ll start freaking out.”

(Even if the idea seems likely to bring the house down all over again, the attempt at delicacy for any potential remaining eavesdroppers _is_ appreciated. It’s one thing to learn that your sister is apocalyptically powerful as an _adult,_ but to learn it as a child seems like a recipe for disaster.)

Klaus gets the pleasure of seeing Dad look freaked out for a second time in one day. His eyes go as wide as dinner-plates, it’s amazing.

“You brought your sister and didn’t bring her medication?” By the glint of steel in Dad’s gaze, he definitely understands the implications, and he’s very disappointed in them all.

“Listen, old man, this whole time travel gambit was fairly last minute.” _Literally,_ Klaus thinks, with a wry grin.

“Number Four,” Dad says, presumably deducing Klaus’ identity based on his pure concentrated disrespect, “you’re as insolent as ever. I’ve half a mind to--”

“To what? I’m a bit big for you to lock me up again.”

Out of the corner of Klaus’ eye, Diego shoots him a sharp look. Oh, yeah, none of his siblings knew about that. Well, now they do! Klaus can’t wait to avoid talking about it.

Before Dad can say something deeply insulting, Allison sighs, loudly and exaggeratedly, and every head turns to her. She holds up her notebook, angled so Dad (and unfortunately, Klaus) can’t see what she’s written. Her expression promises retribution, possibly violent, if people don’t do what she says.

Ben steps forward from the tree, peering at whatever she’s written. He glances up at Klaus.

“She says we can offer Vanya the sedatives, but if she doesn’t want them, we won’t force her to use them.” He raises his brows. “Well, she won’t feel as bad if she’s given a choice in the matter, right?”

“Yeah,” Klaus agrees, startling everyone else. “That sounds like a decent plan.”

Allison raises her brows at him. She follows his gaze, and when her eyes land on the empty space where Ben stands, she smiles fondly. Apparently Klaus’ powers are _useful_ sometimes; he’s as surprised as everyone else.

“It’s really weird to have someone else look directly at me,” Ben says, prompting a snort from Klaus. He waves Allison off with a grin when she looks back at him.

Diego's silence is as good as an agreement. Luther doesn’t look happy about their decided course of action, but for once in his life, he seems to be making peace with the fact he’s outvoted.

“Can you get us the medication, Dad?”

Dad blinks at the frosty tone that’s made its way into Luther’s voice. Maybe it's taken Luther this long to remind himself their Dad is a terrible person.

“... Yes. We’ll have words about this later, Number One.”

With that, he turns on his heel and strides away into the house.

It’s like Klaus can finally breathe again, and by the way his siblings’ shoulders slump, he’s not the only one.

“Y'know, even though I spoke to the bastard a few days ago, I'd forgotten how much of a hardass he was.”

“You spoke to him?” Diego raises a brow, leaning forward in reluctant interest.

“Yeah, long story, not relevant right now.”

Klaus is saving the full story of Luther's clubbing experience for as long as he can. He really doesn't want to talk about the fact he literally died for a few minutes there and then God herself insulted him. Honestly, he hasn’t even fully processed that himself. It’s… a lot.

It looks like Diego wants to push further, but then he sighs, shaking his head.

“Alright, we need a game plan until Five wakes up. Any ideas, Number One?”

Luther wilts, which is quite a sight on a man of his size. Refusing to meet anyone's gaze, he shuffles over to Five, and begins employing some of those leaderly medical skills that Klaus never bothered to learn. His practical medical experience only applies to overdoses and gunshot wounds, and neither of those terrifying situations apply here.

“Five's fine. I guess bringing so many people at once just--” Luther gestures vaguely, “--knocked him out.”

Klaus can sympathise, honestly. He may be avoiding the worst of the time travel symptoms, but the exhaustion from physically conjuring Ben earlier is starting to catch up to him. In a few hours, he’ll be dead on his feet, no pun intended.

Everyone falls silent, and Klaus takes a survey of his siblings.

Allison is staring at Vanya, still looking like her heart is being torn into shreds; Diego is looking at Klaus with an unreadable expression that signals brotherly talks in future; Ben is still a ghost, unfortunately; and Luther is curled in on himself, introspecting.

Shit, Klaus is going to have to be the leader here after all, isn't he?

“Okay,” he says, clapping his hands to get everyone's attention. “Luther, you go and find Five a bed and stay with him until he wakes up. Allison, ditto with Vanya. Diego, Ben, come with me to speak to dear old Dad and try and get some answers. Sound good?”

Everyone stares.

“Yeah, okay,” Diego says, looking faintly shell-shocked.

“Excellent!” Klaus claps his hands again, weirdly exhilarated by this development.

He watches as his siblings slowly drag themselves to their feet, one by one. Luther scoops up Five with ease. Allison has a little more difficulty with Vanya, but she's easily the third strongest Hargreeves sibling, so she manages it in the end. They file silently into the house.

Klaus turns his gaze back to Diego.

“Come on, Number Two. I stuck us with the worst job.”

That brings the faintest traces of a smile to Diego's face. He pushes himself up and slings a surprisingly brotherly arm across Klaus’ shoulders.

“Don't worry, I'm always up for antagonising Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, what do people want to see next? i'm working on:
> 
> 1) diego + klaus + ben (+ child)  
> 2) luther + five (+ child)  
> 3) allison + vanya (+ child)  
> 4) the other four hargreeves kids gossip-- i mean, share intel


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god the response to this fic has been above and beyond anything i've had before, thank you to everyone who's been reading! <3 i hope i can live up to it.
> 
> this chapter would have been up a couple of days earlier but i don't trust my own eyes when doing a first proof-read so it took a little longer. still not 100% sure i'm happy with it, but oh well!

Mom looks at them disapprovingly as they rush into dinner. 

Ben’s shoulder aches from how hard Five is pulling him along, and he can imagine Vanya feels much the same. The fact Five hasn’t just tried to teleport them all to dinner is probably a testament to how much he likes them.

“Now, where have you kids been? Your dinner is getting cold.”

Faced with Mom’s chiding look, the three of them slip into their seats in silence. Full of nervous energy, Ben’s hand shakes as he picks up his fork and half-heartedly begins eating. At the other end of the table, Luther, Diego, and Allison tilt their heads, with matching curious expressions that are a little creepy. 

Klaus wanders in a few moments later, looking even more of out of it than usual.

“Someone please tell me that wasn’t all a massive hallucination.”

Vanya shakes her head, and Klaus’ expression brightens as he sits down and digs in.

“Brilliant!”

Mom tuts, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“Now, Klaus, your father doesn't like it when people talk at the dinner table.”

“I don't think Dad's coming to dinner,” Five says, monotone. He stares at his plate like it'll tell him what the hell just happened outside. “He's busy.”

“Oh yeah, I bet,” Klaus snorts.

Luther and Allison exchange a look.

“What happened?” Oh, never mind, apparently they're sharing a table with Number One, not Luther. He crosses his arms, staring straight at them in his best impression of Dad.

There's a long pause. Ben doesn’t know where to start, and anyway, Five is the one everyone is paying attention to. Lines furrow Five’s brow as he looks up. Ben can't read him very well, but there’s definitely something bothering him beyond the obvious.

“I think our future selves just appeared in the courtyard.”

Diego's lips quirk like he wants to laugh, but the expression fades as fast as it appeared.

“Wait, you're serious?”

Five smiles, tight and humourless. His answering nod is more like a twitch of the head.

There's the sound of chairs being shuffled closer to their end of the table. Five huffs in what could generously be called a laugh. Ben is close enough to see the way his fingers are white-knuckle tight around his knife.

“Ask Vanya,” he says after a moment of tense silence. “She was there first.” 

Vanya shifts back in her chair as all eyes turn to her.

“I heard this rumbling sound from outside,” she says quietly. “There was this flash of blue light, like when Five jumps--”

“Teleports,” Five corrects.

“Teleports. Then when I went outside, all of them were lying on the ground. It took them a while to notice me.”

Luther frowns, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Vanya,  you had no idea what was happening. You should have come to get one of us.”

Vanya shrinks into herself, averting her gaze from Luther's disapproval. Ben does his best to smile encouragingly at her, and she squares her shoulders and continues.

“I thought they had Five. I thought if I went to get help, they'd hurt him.”

She glances over at Five. At this admission, a little of the tension eases from his brow. He even manages something resembling a genuine smile.

“How do you know they were our future selves?” Luther raises one eyebrow doubtfully.

Vanya taps her wrist, where a tattoo would be if she were a member of the team.

“They could just be rabid fans,” Allison suggests, looking weirdly pleased by the idea.

“Wait,” Diego interrupts, leaning forward, “why did you think they had Five?”

“They were all adults,” Ben says, surprising himself by speaking up. “Except Five looked just like he does now.”

All eyes turn back to Five, who shifts his shoulders in what would be a shrug if Five ever admitted to not knowing something. Allison coughs, examining her nails in a practiced gesture.

“So, what did  _ my _ ‘future self’ look like? Did she look glamorous?”

“She was sort of tall,” Klaus says in a far away tone. “Blonde hair, really nice clothes, this weird bandage on her neck like she’d had her throat cut or something.”

“She…” Vanya coughs, twisting her hands together. “She didn’t seem like she could talk.”

Allison’s eyes go wide, and she slumps against the back of her seat.

“That’s-- You’re lying.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s depressing. Hey, do you think my future self was the big buff dude or the scruffy one with the eyeliner?” Klaus cracks up before he even finishes asking his stupid question, throwing his head backwards with the force of his laughter.

Everyone stares at him. Allison rolls her eyes, but her expression is faintly wobbly.

Ben imagines not having his powers. Then, figuring that’s a pretty bad comparison given his powers, he imagines Five not having his powers instead. It just doesn’t fit. Five wouldn’t be Five. Allison wouldn’t be Allison.

He may hate the way it feels when she twists them all to her will, but Allison’s rumours are so inextricable from her that it feels like the world would stop spinning without them.

“Everyone was there except… Ben.” Five presses his lips together with something like worry, looking over at Ben for confirmation. Ben can only shrug in return (how would  _ he _ know what his future self is up to?), distracted by the way Klaus has gone completely still.

“I've-- got to go.”

“Klaus?” Ben holds out a hand, but Klaus flinches away like a wounded animal.

“Yeah-- Bye.” Klaus bolts, stumbling from the room and out of sight.

“Oh, your silly brother has left his dinner unfinished,” Mom says with a click of her tongue. “I do wonder what's up with that boy.”

Diego snorts, digging into his own meal with gusto.

“It's Klaus. Who  _ knows _ what's up with him?”

There's a murmur of agreement around the table, but Ben stays silent. Normally, he'd be right there with them: even at the best of times, Klaus walks on the thin line between impulsive and erratic. To most people, this situation would be no different.

But Ben is the one still awake when Klaus comes back from training, and he recognises the hunted,  _ haunted _ look that had crossed Klaus’ face. Something just scared Klaus to his core, and there's a sinking feeling in Ben's stomach that can make a guess what it was.

Ben thinks of himself, an adult, dead.

It’s not as difficult a thought as he’d hoped.

He pushes his plate away, stands up, and leaves. If anyone calls after him, he doesn’t hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god, wrangling seven children at once is Tough, Do Not Recommend. i mean, probably in real life too, but mostly while writing. too many characters in one scene.
> 
> next up: diego and klaus and ben! probably.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note one: apparently due to weirdness in the way i posted it, there weren't notifications for last chapter, so check it out if you haven't seen it
> 
> note two: god i am so sorry for the delay in this chapter! my schedule has been weird and busy and i just didn't find much time to actually write. but, as a bonus, this chapter is like twice as long as my usual chapter lengths (because these brothers wouldn't stop shittalking each other)

“Are you okay?” Ben asks as they walk through the house, catching Klaus’ arm in a way that's still _super_ weird.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Klaus mutters. Ben gives him a dubious look. “Okay, I'm repressing! I'll have a breakdown in a few hours once the adrenaline wears off.”

“That's not exactly healthy.”

“Compared to my previous history of coping mechanisms, I'd say it's _very_ healthy.”

“It's just another kind of denial, Klaus.”

“You know I can hear everything you're saying, right?” Klaus yelps as Diego's hand lands on his shoulder. Goddamnit, why is everyone so touchy-feely today? It’s a real break from tradition.

“It's fine, Diego. Our brother is just an asshole.”

They might not be _genetically_ related, but Diego's doubtful look is creepily similar to Ben's.

“Let me guess, he's been stuck with you for so long that he can see through your shit, right?”

“See, _Diego_ gets it,” Ben says, cracking a grin.

 _“Diego's_ coping mechanisms are to throw knives at things,” Klaus says, as the brother in question looks around, brow furrowed. _“Diego_ has no leg to stand on right now.”

Diego follows Klaus’ gaze until his eyes land on Ben, more or less. He lifts a hand and waves slowly, clearly feeling a little ridiculous about the whole thing.

Ben grins wider, high-fiving Diego's raised hand with gleeful mischief glittering in his eyes.

Diego glances at Klaus.

“That _is_ Ben, right? You haven't just summoned a random corpse to mess with me?”

“It’s Ben, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. No offence, Ben.”

“You seriously make death jokes with him?”

“Nothing like gallows humour when you’ve already gone through the gallows, right?”

“I’ll never understand you, Klaus,” Diego says with a shake of his head.

Diego slings his arm back over Klaus’ shoulders, slowly dragging him along towards Dad’s office. Damn, he saw through Klaus’ cunning plan to talk shit and distract from their actual goal. _This_ is why Klaus wouldn’t make a good leader.

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual. I’ve never personally had the urge to become a knife-throwing vigilante who listens to police radio calls for fun.”

“I don’t throw knives as a _coping mechanism.”_

“Oh, no, Diego, you’re just a completely well-adjusted man with a knife collection, my mistake.”

Diego huffs, either in annoyance or amusement. Probably a mixture of the two; that’s the reaction Klaus is used to getting from his siblings.

“It’s about saving lives, Klaus.”

“Yeah, I know, you _told_ me. Loneliest frozen waffles I’ve ever eaten, make no mistake.”

“They smelled pretty good,” Ben comments, hands in pockets as he walks beside them. “Hey, do you think I can eat things now?”

Klaus opens his mouth, then snaps it shut, frowning as he contemplates the idea.

“I can’t believe you eat frozen waffles,” Diego mutters, oblivious. “How the hell did you not starve to death after you moved out?”

“These are both really fascinating questions that I don’t know the answers to.”

Diego pauses, shooting a sidelong look at Klaus. There’s clearly some cogs turning in his brain that Klaus isn’t privy to.

“If Ben’s going to be part of the conversation, can you do... whatever it is you did in the theater?” He doesn’t sound precisely sure _what_ Klaus did, but that’s okay, because Klaus isn’t precisely sure what he did either.

“I’d love to, but…” Klaus wiggles his fingers experimentally. “I think I’m all out of mojo right for today. Check back tomorrow, etcetera, etcetera.”

“That figures,” Diego huffs.

“Hey, doing whatever freaky conjuring voodoo I can do is apparently tiring work!”

 _“I_ don’t get tired when using my powers.”

“Not all of us have powers as simple as _throwing things,”_ Klaus says, in response to _that_ piece of posturing. “Do you think any of our other siblings have any surprise powers hidden away?”

There’s a pause.

Diego coughs. There’s an unfamiliar flush to his face, and a look of vague embarrassment that Klaus last saw when they were teenagers and Diego had just had his first kiss.

“No!” Klaus grins widely, delighted and scandalised all at once. “Do tell, mon frère.”

Diego twists his hands together, cracking his knuckles in what is _probably_ not a threat.

“It’s not exactly useful,” he mutters, ever the pragmatist.

“Spill,” Klaus insists.

“I don’t need to breathe, okay?”

Diego glares, a jagged edge to his gaze, as though he expects Klaus to make fun of him. Klaus absolutely could, and probably _would_ \-  Diego’s powers have no thematic link whatsoever, and that’s hilarious - but, honestly? Klaus’ shittalk engine is running low on gas.

“That’s cooler than super strength,” he says, turning his gaze to the ceiling in contemplation. “What are we talking here, exactly? Because unless I’m mistaken, you’re breathing _now.”_

“I _prefer_ to breathe,” Diego deadpans, the line of his shoulders easing.

“Don’t we all,” Ben interjects, grinning lopsidedly like the asshole that he is.

Klaus stifles laughter, keeping focus on Diego’s revelation. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

The faint laughter lines around Diego’s eyes smooth away. The emotion in his expression fades, until all that’s left is a sense of distance.

“I knew it would get back to Dad if I told anyone, and I didn’t want him to know, because then...”

To use a conversationally appropriate metaphor, Klaus feels like all the air has been punched out of his lungs. He knows exactly what Dad would do, and it would be far too familiar.

(He can picture a young Diego locked underwater the way Klaus was locked in a mausoleum. It’s somehow even more frightening to Klaus and he doesn’t want to think about why.)

“Yeah,” Klaus manages. “I get that.”

“Outside, you said that Dad locked you up.” It’s not a question, just an acknowledgement.

“Dad was pretty screwed up,” Klaus comments, as neutrally as possible.

 _“Is_ pretty screwed up,” Diego counters, voice low. “When I saw him again, I wanted to kill him. I didn’t realise I hated him as much as that. He was just...” Diego makes an inarticulate noise, balling his hands into fists.

“I know. Obsessed with quote-unquote ‘unlocking our potential’. I guess, in my case, he was actually right. Broken clocks, and all.”

Diego falls quiet.

The house creaks around them. It’s just as oppressive as it was when he arrived for the funeral; full of dust and old ghosts. The only difference is the way their cheery instructions for how to win a fight are still bright and bold, decorating the walls with morbid childishness.

(Klaus is so deeply thankful that he’s never _actually_ had to gouge someone’s eyes out.)

He glances towards Ben, hoping for some assistance in breaking the mood, and finds he’s nowhere to be seen. He must have vanished at some point. Klaus feels a vague spark of guilt that he didn’t notice, and a much larger spark of panic that Ben might not come back.

After all, Ben technically shouldn’t _be_ here. They’ve got no clue _what_ loophole let him stay. Maybe, once he’s gone, he can’t come back.

He tells himself he’s being irrational. Taking one deep breath, then another, he fidgets with his hands. God, he’d kill to get high right now, he really would.

“I guess I owe you an apology,” Diego says, at long last. There’s a lot unspoken in the heavy tone of his words: an apology for never believing Klaus, for underestimating him, for writing him off as his stupid junkie brother.

For a long time, Klaus was okay with being written off as the stupid junkie brother, because it was pretty much accurate. Now, the label feels like a shirt that’s a little too tight in all the wrong ways.

“... Yeah, maybe. Hey, I’ll apologise for making fun of your dumbass vigilante shtick, and then we’ll be even, okay?”

“Can you be serious for just-- one minute?”

Klaus mimes zipping his mouth shut. Diego pulls a knife out of its holster and begins silently shifting it from one hand to another.

“I’ve been a shitty brother,” Diego says, voice wavering, as Klaus’ internal stopwatch reaches sixty seconds. “Not _just_ to you, but… I’ve been an asshole.”

“All the best brothers are,” Klaus says, aiming for dismissive but ending up fond. “I mean, look at Ben! Or don’t, whatever-- _He’s_ an asshole, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a good brother.”

“I could have done more.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have let you. Anyway, Diego, you spent our teenage years dragging me out of bad decisions, and unlike _Luther,_ you didn’t throw me on Dad’s mercy every single time.”

“I could have been a better big brother,” Diego says, in that wavering tone he uses when he’s trying not to be emotional about something.

“You’re not my big brother, Diego, I’m older than you!”

“Klaus, we’re the same age.”

“Welcome to my life, Diego!” Klaus throws his hands up as dramatically as he can muster. “Everyone else’s week has been a ten on the weirdness scale, and mine has been an _eleven.”_

His week has also technically not been a week at all, but if he thinks more than superficially about his time away, he’s going to have _another_ breakdown about it, and then his emotions are going to have to start forming queues. It’s easier to pretend that weeks are sometimes ten months long, and focus on the more recent problems.

Diego stares at him, blinking slowly like he’s not sure he believes Klaus. Then a wry grin appears on his face, and he claps Klaus on the back. Back to normality it is, then.

“So, _big brother,_ what are we going to tell Dad?”

Klaus groans theatrically, turning his gaze to the heavens.

“I have no damn clue.”

“You’re really making this up as you go along?”

“Yeah, generally.” Klaus grins, a nervous flash of teeth that’s gone as soon as it’s there. “No plan survives first contact with the enemy, after all.”

Diego makes a vague sound of agreement, slipping his knife away.

“You get any ideas, you share them.”

“Yes, sir.” Klaus raises his hand, a mock-salute, and Diego slaps it down. Ow.

“Don’t-- That’s too close.”

Klaus thinks back to seeing Dad again. Not crazy dead black-and-white Dad giving him a shave, but crazy alive technicolour Dad with that awful ice-cold stare. Yeah, it probably _is_ too close.

“You know why I picked you to come and talk to him?”

“Allison wouldn’t let Vanya out of her sight and Luther would end up giving in to Dad?”

“Close, no cigar.” Klaus holds up a hand, then folds down one finger. A corner of Diego’s mouth quirks up; Klaus will take that victory.

“I’m your least favourite sibling?”

“Getting colder,” Klaus says, folding down another finger.

“Alright, then why?”

Klaus hesitates briefly, dropping his hands to his pockets.

“Because you’re the only one who ever hated him to his face as much as I did.”

Diego goes silent again.

Daylight pours through the windows and settles around their feet. It’s the kind of sun you only get in wintertime, with a yellow-tinged warmth that hides a bone-deep chill. Dad doesn’t even have the heating on, even though he could afford to heat this entire block for centuries.

It’s not a nostalgic feeling. Klaus pulls his jacket tighter around himself, but given that it’s, y’know, sleeveless… Goosebumps prickle along his skin.

It’s like he’s walking over his own grave. Diego’s, too, and everyone else who’s ever lived and died in this empty house.

When they _finally_ reach the dark-wood door to Dad’s office, it’s an awful relief. Klaus feels a weight lifted from his shoulders and immediately deposited in the pit of his stomach.

“What, did you take a loop around the block, or something?”

Ben is leaning against the wall. His head rests against it, and his eyes are closed like he’s half-asleep. In all these years, Klaus has never thought to ask if ghosts get tired.

Klaus opens his mouth to say something snappy in return, but the words dry up in his mouth.

It’s ridiculous. He broke into this office and _looted_ it right after Dad died; the glint of light against the rich brown of the door shouldn’t look so intimidating just because the old man is alive all over again.

“Maybe we _should_ have taken another loop around the block.”

“That would only make Dad angrier,” Ben comments unhelpfully.

“We’re not getting any younger here, Klaus,” Diego adds, somehow following on from Ben’s point despite not _hearing_ Ben’s point.

“Yeah,” Klaus breathes, more exhale than voice.

He stares at the door in front of them, with genuinely no idea what’s getting to him about it.

“Klaus,” Ben says, leaning forward with a furrowed brow. His hands hover in the air like he wants to ground Klaus but has no idea how. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, Ben, if you wanted it to be Brotherly Therapy Hour, you shouldn’t have ditched us when we were getting to the deep stuff earlier.”

“Klaus?” Diego, this time, tilting his head and setting his jaw.

“Okay, fine, if you’re _both_ going to pester me about it, let’s just get this inevitably terrible conversation over with.”

Before either of his siblings can extend any more concern towards him, Klaus reaches out and taps his knuckles on the office door, quickfire like gunshots.

This is going to _suck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you ever have those weeks where writing just doesn't work?
> 
> well this one took a while because i hate writing characters i dislike and reginald is made to be disliked
> 
> but i have offically pushed past the four chapter curse! this is the longest thing i've posted on ao3 ever! oh god i hope i can keep this up, but it's less than two months to my a level exams so writing may become... sporadic

As soon as Klaus knocks on the door, they all fall quiet. Not a single one of them even breathes, though that probably means less than normal since two of them don’t  _ need _ to. Klaus, at least, is feeling the lung strain.

There’s no response from inside the office.

The silence is oppressive. It could almost be called tomblike, except silence is the opposite of Klaus’ usual tomb-based experiences.

“Should we just…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely.

“Break in?”

“I was going to say ‘leave’, Diego, but whatever.” Klaus laughs, a touch hysterically.

“Wimp,” Ben says, pointing at Klaus, then his finger shifts to Diego. “Adrenaline junkie.”

“We can’t leave.  _ Someone’s _ got to speak to the old bastard.”

“Why does it actually have to be us?”

“Because you delegated.” Diego claps Klaus on the back. “First rule of leadership, don’t give yourself something you don’t want to do.”

Diego’s hand tightens on Klaus’ jacket, and Klaus finds himself dragged forward. With his free hand, Diego pulls the office door open.

They enter the room. There’s no one there.

“I’ll keep lookout,” Ben says, arms crossed.

It’s an entirely fair proposal, but Klaus  _ knows _ he’s only making it to avoid being in a room with dear old Dad. It’s not like Reggie can  _ see _ Ben, so it’s hard to see what he’s so worried about.

(That’s a lie, of course, but Klaus is going to implode if he keeps being charitable to his siblings today.)

Ben slides the door shut, still looking faintly awed by his ability to do that, and then it’s just Klaus and Diego again.

“Diego, you can let go of my jacket now.”

“Promise you won’t jump out of the window.”

Klaus rolls his eyes.

“I  _ promise, _ Diego. Although, death by defenestration  _ would be _ dramatic.”

With an expression of ultimate reluctance, Diego lets go. Klaus steps away, finding himself stumbling, legs shaking beneath him,

“Of course Dad only has one chair in here,” Klaus mutters, trying to even out his breathing. Funny thing about breathing exercises: you remember them right up until you have to actually use them. He reaches out, leaning against one of the many bookshelves packed into the room.

“Klaus?”

“I’m fine.” Klaus waves Diego off with his free hand. “Just-- having an attack of nostalgia. Or anti-nostalgia.  _ Not _ stalgia.”

Because Diego is sometimes a good brother, he laughs, so quiet that Klaus nearly doesn’t hear.

“I mean,” Klaus continues, “last time I was in here, I looted it for everything I could, and I never planned on looking back after that.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

Apparently done with brotherly hovering for the day, Diego walks across the room to lean against Dad’s desk. He’s a better person than Klaus, because he doesn’t try to quietly figure out what stuff would be worth money at the nearest pawn shop.

(Klaus isn’t  _ actually _ going to steal anything. He doesn’t even know where the nearest pawn shop  _ is _ at this point in time.)

“After the funeral, I was going to be done with this place forever,” Diego says. “Then there was the whole conspiracy about Dad, and then there were  _ time-travelling assassins, _ and everything got… personal.”

Klaus feels a flare of guilt, gone nearly as soon as it appears. Maybe if Klaus had reacted differently, Diego’s girlfriend - or ex-girlfriend, or whatever - would still be alive. Before he can stew on that depressing thought and add a fresh new element to his self-hatred, Ben’s voice comes from outside.

“Dad’s on his way,” he calls, as loudly as he can. Advantages of only being heard by one person, Klaus figures - no need to be subtle about anything.

Klaus holds up a hand, and Diego stills.

Together, they listen to footsteps approaching. The door slides open slowly.

Their father freezes when he notices them, gaze darting between them with a delightful level of uncertainty. Take that, Dad.

“Two, Four, you’re not allowed in here--” He cuts himself off, lips thinning into irritation, like they’re nothing more than flies he can’t be bothered to swat. “Where is Number One?”

“ _ Luther _ is otherwise occupied,” Diego says, emphasising the name. “You’re stuck with us.”

“This is not standard procedure. Your brother is the leader--” Diego laughs, copper-tinged and full of hatred, “--and I expect him to be the one to give your mission reports.”

Klaus lets a smile creep across his face like the slow winter frost.

“Well, Dad, there’s been some changes in the team over the past-- what, twenty years?”

Diego shrugs when Klaus looks at him for a better estimate. Yeah, Klaus was judging by the height and the hair, and his hindsight is definitely  _ not _ 20/20. Still, Five’s around, so it can’t be  _ that _ recent.

“It’s the 10th of November, 2002,” Dad says stiffly.

“Huh. That’s, uh, seventeen years?” Klaus attempts to do mental math, and fails spectacularly.

“Sixteen and a bit,” Diego waves his hand in a gesture of approximation.

“It’s unfortunate that those intervening years haven’t cured your unfortunate habits of insubordination. Now, remain focused, and give me your mission report.”

By this point, Dad has made his way around to his chair. He looks much less imposing sitting in it than Klaus remembers, and that little fact gives Klaus his breath back. Dad’s an old man and an asshole, but he doesn’t hold the power here, not really.

(Well, he might, because he knew about the apocalypse way before it happened, but that knowledge won’t do him any good for the next sixteen years, so… See the previous remark about him not holding the power.)

“You died,” Diego says. “How’s that for a mission report?”

A hush falls across the room.

Well, this is what Klaus brought Diego for: being completely off-putting. Idly, he wonders if he could get away with high-fiving Diego right now. Probably not.

The silence is broken with a creak, as the door slips open. Klaus brushes it off as a breeze, until Ben speaks, with uncharacteristic apprehension.

“Um. Bad news. We’ve got an eavesdropper.”

Klaus considers. He can’t alert Diego to the problem without also putting Reginald in the know, and he’d kind of like to avoid getting the past versions of his siblings punished for some perfectly justifiable nosiness. It looks like he’s going to have to handle this one himself.

(Tomorrow, he’s going to wake up, and he’s not going to do anything that  _ resembles _ leadership.)

“On that bombshell, I need to take a piss. Talk among yourselves!”

Dad looks like disappointment has been engraved into the lines of his face, but Diego just rolls his eyes. If he suspects that something’s off, he doesn’t show it.

Klaus waves his goodbye-hand and looks over at Ben. Ben looks nervous as all hell, like he’s still alive, and Klaus is sensing that the eavesdropping might not be the worst news Ben has for him.

He slips out of the door, away from the frosty silence of the office, and there, wide-eyed in front of him, is a familiar face.

Familiar, of course, because when he was younger, he saw it in the mirror everyday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what am i doing, leaving every chapter on a cliffhanger? next time: ben and klaus and klaus
> 
> (and then after that i will give both versions of klaus a rest and you'll probably get allison and vanya and some other kids, at last!)

**Author's Note:**

> if you have something you want explored in this universe, lmk, and maybe i'll get to it!
> 
> you can find me at [screechfoxes](https://screechfoxes.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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